Not Alone
by PrettyLittleMonster
Summary: "He's nearing nine years old, and he's been sleeping on the streets as long as he can remember." In which nine year old Crutchie Morris gets some help and brotherly advice from a friend.


**(Author's Note: So this is kind of inspired by the song Not Alone from A Very Potter Musical, hence the title, so I would suggest listening to that at some point. It's not vital to the story, but it's a really inspiring song, so go listen to that! Also, Crutchie. Just... Crutchie...**

**Standard disclaimers apply. I own nothing but my own imagination.)**

He's alone. He's alone, and he's scared. The sun is setting, and though it's not as cold as has been the past few nights, it certainly isn't warm. The little boy who goes only by the name Crutchie Morris curls up around himself in a narrow, disused alley. He was kicked out of his usual place up against a little cafe the night before, so he's had to find somewhere new to stay the night. He's used to that. He's nearing nine years old, and he's been sleeping on the streets as long as he can remember. The part that scares him is that tonight, he is alone. Crutchie has always had his mama looking out for him, but she's gone now, and she isn't coming back. It was the cold that got her in the end. She'd always been so strong, and yet, she was snatched away from her son by a simple fever. He doesn't even have time to be sad about it, because he is flung back to the streets, and is tasked with surviving on his own. He can do it; he knows he can, but that doesn't make it any less scary.

Crutchie Morris huddles in on himself, trying very hard to keep out of sight. A few grown-ups walk by, but none take notice of the child lying, curled in a ball against the wall of a tall, unfeeling brick building. He likes it that way. No one can bother him if they don't even see him.

Crutchie has his back to the street, attempting to sleep for a few hours when a boy, no more than three years older than he, stops to study the little shivering mass in the shadows. This boy just stares at the child for a minute, before crouching down next to him and whispering,

"Hey, kid, you okay?" Crutchie is startled, not realizing that he has been noticed, and starts to move away, but the boy puts a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "I ain't gonna hurt you, don't worry-" there is a long pause, as both boys lock eyes for a time, one filled with fright and the other with concern. "-uh, you got a place to sleep tonight kid? An I don't mean on the street like this. You got a real house or somethin?" He seems to be genuinely concerned, but still, Crutchie is wary. The older boy looks kindly at the child he has found on the street.

"Well, no, I guess not," Crutchie admits, "but I'm okay. I'm used to it." He tries to roll back onto the ground and disappear again. He doesn't need help from anybody.

"You sure? Cause I can get ya a place. You'd have a real bed to sleep in, an they'll give ya a job there too, so's you can eat." He has to admit, that does sound good. Crutchie has never slept in a real bed before, not that he can remember anyway, and he also can't remember the last time he was able to buy a good meal. He's still a little nervous though, and he turns to look at the older boy suspiciously.

"You sure they would want me?" He asks, glancing worriedly between his crutch and his right ankle, which is bent at a strange angle and refuses to support his weight.

"Course they would! They take in all kinds of kids, and besides, we's a family there. Family helps each other out, and if I says that you's a part of our family now, then you is." At this statement, Crutchie forgets any hesitation he previously had, and murmurs,

"Okay," with a small smile. The boy holds out his hand, and helps Crutchie to his feet, and he wedges his crutch under his arm.

"You got a name kid?" The older boy asks once they've started walking away from the alley.

"Crutchie Morris," he announces proudly, "What about you?"

"The name's Jack Kelly. I think we's gonna be good friends Crutchie Morris." Crutchie takes one last look at his hiding spot in the alley, glad to be leaving it behind for good. He doesn't know yet where he's going, but it's someplace where he won't be alone anymore. Crutchie thinks his mama would be proud of him. She wouldn't want him to be alone, and now he's got a family, and a friend. For the first time since he lost his mama, Crutchie isn't scared, because for the first time since he lost her, Crutchie isn't alone.

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, Crutchie Morris has his very own bed in the newsboy's lodging house. He's never had a bed before. He's getting the hang of selling papes, and the boys-his new family-are all real nice. They welcome him as if they really were his brothers, and Crutchie knows he should consider himself lucky, yet he curls up into a ball on his mattress that night, pulls the sheet over his head, and starts to cry very quietly because it finally hits him that his mama is never coming back. She is gone, and Crutchie misses her, and he can't stop crying.<p>

He should have looked after her better. He should have figured out a way to get her the medicine she needed. He remembers the day before he lost her, when she sat him down and told him how she'd always be with him. He should have realized how dark the circles under her eyes were, and how her thin, frail body shook violently when she coughed. He should have...

"Hey, Crutch, you okay kid?" A voice whispers. Crutchie tries in vain to dry his tears, but Jack pulls the sheet off his head and sees that he's crying. He didn't want any of the boys to know, especially Jack, who has sort of taken him under his wing.

"I'se fine," he tries to affirm, but Jack sees right through his obvious lie.

"No you ain't. You don't got to hide that you're upset, you know." Crutchie doesn't respond, just avoids Jack's gaze sheepishly. He just wanted to fit in with all the Newsies. They weren't gonna want some whiney kid hanging around; he wanted to prove he could hack it.

"C'mon," Jack continues, seeming to have read Crutchie's mind, "I gots something to show you."

Curiosity drags Crutchie out of his bed to follow Jack up a rickety stairway-which is rather difficult with his crutch-and out onto the roof of the lodging house. It's dark out, but the lights from the city illuminate the two boys. They can see buildings and streets for miles it seems like.

"Welcome to my penthouse kid," Jack announced loudly, "Now, why dont'cha tell me what's wrong?"

Crutchie hesitates; he really doesn't want to say it out loud. If he says it out loud, that will make it real, but after a few moments, he finally mumbles out what he's had lurking in the back of his mind for two weeks.

"It's my fault my mama's dead." Jack looks at him with what Crutchie thinks is shock, but within seconds, he's been engulfed in a hug by the older boy.

"Crutchie Morris," Jack articulates slowly, "That is not true."

"But it is!" He argues, pushing Jack away. "She got real sick, and instead of buying medicine, she was making sure _I_ had enough to eat. I should have helped her, and now she's gone and I'm all alone!" He feels the tears start to struggle out of his eyes again, and soon he's crying so hard that he has to sit down. Jack just puts an arm around the little boy's shoulders and lets him cry.

When Crutchie's tears seem to have run dry, Jack speaks again.

"Crutchie, there's a couple of things I know real well. First, is that you had nothing to do with your mama getting sick and not being able to get medicine. Now I had a mama once, and she got sick too. Real sick. There wasn't anything anybody could do for her. What you gots to realize, is that it was not your fault. I know it. Did you do everything you could think of to help her?" Crutchie nods, sniffling a little. "That's what I thought you'se would say. It ain't your fault; don't think that for another minute. You did the best you could, and I'll bet your mama would be real proud of you. Another thing I know is that you are not alone. Your mama might not be right here with you, but still watching out for ya. Plus, you got us newsies now. We won't ever let you be alone. I promise. You might not have folks anymore, but you'se never alone." Crutchie throws his arms around his brother.

"Thanks Jack."

"No problem kid." Suddenly, Crutchie thinks of a question that had popped into his head a few minutes earlier.

"Hey Jack, you got any folks?" He looks puzzled at the suddenness of the question, but quickly shakes it off and answers bluntly,

"Nah. Not anymore. I'm just like you, Crutch." Crutchie's eyes get very wide and he isn't quite sure why, but this statement comes as a bit of a shock to him.

"Really?"

"Really. It's okay though. I don't need folks. I got friends." Jack grins, and Crutchie thinks about the past two weeks. He isn't alone anymore. He's got a bunch of brothers, and maybe-just maybe-he thinks, looking at the older boy sitting next to him, he's got a best friend.

"Yeah. Me too."

**(Thanks so much for reading guys! Reviews, prompts, and general fangirlism would be greatly appreciated!**

**Much love,  
>PrettyLittleMonster Xxx)<strong>


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